Ouroboros
by Kironomi
Summary: After a share of touches, Arthur and Merlin start wondering when have their feelings for each other changed. To top that, they are now to embark to a trip to the White Mountains. Warning:Arthur/Merlin;Vikings and Mythology
1. Picnic

**Hi!This is my new Merlin story, "Ouroboros".**

**I hope you enjoy it.**

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Chapter 1- "Picnic"

Merlin stroked his horse, feeling more nervous than the animal itself, which was violently whinnying.

"Oh, come on, Merlin!" a voice close to him sneered "Even the girls have mastered it!"

Merlin bit his tongue to prevent from telling him off, and tried to climb up the horse, failing to do so.

"You are a shame to all citizens of Camelot!" Arthur snickered, but still putting his hands down and crossing them so Merlin could climb up. The manservant put his left foot on Arthur's hands and the prince impulse him up.

Merlin fell clumsily on the top of the horse, now with a terrible pain on his lower member.

"Urgh…" he groaned, and Gwen and Morgana laughed. He could almost hear Arthur's smirk.

Merlin rolled his eyes and straightened up his back, reminding Arthur's lessons on horse ridding and, quite happily, was able to ride his horse calmly.

They were heading to the forest, where they were going to have a picnic, probably the last before autumn, for a chilly breeze was flowing from the North. Summer had passed so fast, he had barely noticed it! Soon enough they would be forced to stay at home. Of course, that only meant Merlin had to put up with Arthur even more. If he was a prat in good weather, when he could be hunting and training outside, clearing his head and entertaining himself terrorizing the other knights, what would he be like when he was forced to be inside? Maybe that would mean more work for Merlin and more times attending to Uther's councils, which never ceased to bore him, in all his 6 months as a Camelot citizen and Arthur's manservant.

The path to the forest was uneven and leaves were covering the road, looking like a carpet of red and green. It looked enchanted, the trees around him framing the sky that, from above the swirls of green, looked of a clear blue.

The girls were telling stories, riding behind Arthur and Merlin, merrily laughing. Arthur was also smiling and sometimes even talking back to the girls, a rare discomposure of the man who was perpetually annoyed and bored.

It seemed such a nice day!

Despite the wind, the gentle sunlight bathed the forest and water droplets scintillated everywhere. It looked like pixies, he reckoned, but then reminded the last time he encountered some and how they had preyed on Arthur and quickly dismissed that thought. They reached the place after half an hour of horse riding. It was a beautiful meadow, covered by green grass and many trees. A mountain defined the horizon, looking grey and pale compared to the life that seemed to emerge from grassland. Merlin knew it, it was so big it could be seen from was covered with snow at its top, and Merlin thought it reached the sky. That's what his mother had told him when he was little, at least. That was when Merlin used to dream about climbing up said mountain and live in a cage with fairies and bears that lived in an underworld. He laughed at his own superb imagination and returned his look to the mesmerizing lea.

Umbers, oaks, birches and he though he could spot some elms on the horizon, but he couldn't be sure as of this distance. But the largest tree, located right after the forest's outskirts, was really magnificent. It had a thick bark and a broad, dark brown trunk. Its leaves were still green, while the other trees' ones had long gone yellow.

Gwen slid off the horse with a woven basket of wicker, and a large smile. Morgana followed her, a mantle folded under her arm.

"Merlin put the horses over there!" Arthur commanded. He really didn't give him any rest.

Merlin guided the horses, grumbling to himself on how Arthur was a git, and that made him surprisingly better. After all, spending an entire morning trying to scrub out wine from a prince's breeches wasn't exactly a good way to start his day, and one could not be blamed if said wine stained to the impossibility said white and perfect breeches.

He suddenly reminded he was holding the horses' reins and tied them to a tree, assuring that the rope was long enough to allow the horses to bend their necks and eat the grass.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat today!" he heard the prince shout. So, now in a bad mood, he turned around and headed towards where a white mantle was laid on ground.

He sat on the edge of the sheet that Gwen had surely brought from home. It was a bit shredded in the corner Merlin had occupied, but the two royals didn't seem to notice or care, even if they were used to better linen.

Displayed on the mantle were loaves of bread, still tucked in the basket, a large gourd filled with water, he guessed, for it was opaque, several mugs and something wrapped in cloth that definitely smelled like Gwen's pies. Upon hearing his stomach rumble, he grabbed a slice of bread and munched it while Guinevere poured water on his mug. Then, she sat at Morgana's side, in the opposite side of the large towel, on her knees, while Arthur leant on the tree, with his legs stretched on the top of the mantle. He and Morgana were discussing the strange laundry event that had occurred early that day. Merlin felt a knot form on his throat.

"It's strange, right?" Morgana laughed "Guinevere says that there were clothes floating in mid-air!"

Arthur laughed as well, picking up the mug again to take a sip of water.

"Are you sure, Gwen?" he asked, seeming to doubt the maid. After all, magic was serious matter in Camelot. "And you say there was only Merlin there?"

"Yes, sire." Gwen replied, timidly.

"Merlin, did you see anything?" Morgana inquired, seeming eager to find out what has put her maid and friend in a state of hysteria.

Merlin hid his face, fearing that the lady's piercing gaze would be able to read his mind, and, pretending to nibble on his piece of bread, lied with all his teeth. Why had he fallen on the temptation of doing magic inside the castle? He deserved that someone had caught him, to teach him to be more cautious.

"But-" Gwen started.

"Gwen!" interrupted Morgana "Maybe you really didn't see the clothes floating." She paused, directing another look at Merlin. She didn't believe him. "I think you have been working too much lately and you just imagined things! Now, let's taste the wonderful pie you've baked for us!"

Gwen nodded, still seeming a bit confused and worried, and the knot on Merlin's throat grew tighter. She didn't deserve to be treated like that, when she was saying the truth. But what could Merlin do?

But the feeling of guild quickly disappeared as the pie was unwrapped and the sweet smell of freshly-made meat pie took over the air, merging with the other natural fragrances that dwelled around them.

His nostrils inhaled the tender smell and his mouth almost drooled when Gwen cut the pie and gave each one a slice. He ate it, certainly with a foolishly satisfied expression on his face, for Arthur and Morgana started laughing, almost instantly followed by Gwen. Blushing, he worried to eat the rest of slice, only to start laughing as well.

Drinking on last mug of water, he got up and helped the girls put the remaining food and water back in the basket. Then, he returned the horses to their respective owners: Morgana quickly hopped on her white horse, Snowflake; Arthur, his usual stallion, Thunder; Gwen cheerfully grabbed her deceased father's horse, an old, but resilient honey-coloured friend.

Lastly, Merlin caressed his horse again; he was as old was Gwen's and his fur was dark brown. In fact it looked like it was black, but when light shone on it; one could see the dark brown emerging.

He mounted, now with much more ease, he recognized, proud, and they rode off to the forest, saying the last goodbye to that part of the Kingdom before the cold weather came. Already the clouds around the mountain seemed to gather fiercely.

"Hey, Arthur, what about a race?" Morgana asked, a defying grin drawn on her lips.

"Milady, no!" Gwen intervened "You might fall!"

"Of course not, I'll beat this little prince in any time!"

"That's not what I-"

"Kyaa!Snowflake!" Morgana shouted, and the white horse raised itself in two and galloped into the path.

Arthur ordered his horse as well, and, with a kick in Thunder's stomach, he stormed away, following Morgana with equal speed and leaving Gwen and Merlin behind, in a calm ride.

"Those two are really impossible!" Gwen confessed, with a laugh.

"Yeah…"Merlin agreed "Do you think they'll end up together?"

"What? No!" Gwen exclaimed, surprised, but firm. Her horse stopped, probably after feeling its owner distress.

Merlin's horse staggered as well, making the warlock shake a bit on its back.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

Gwen blushed gratuitously.

"I…I think they are just like two sibilings, not…you know!" she blurted out, the nervous tone in her voice making Merlin suspicious. Even though the poor maid talked like that all the time.

"Gwen…Do you happen to fancy Arthur?" he asked, with a mischievous smile.

She blushed more intensively.

"No!" she shouted "What are you saying!"

Merlin suppressed a laugh and narrowed his eyes, a foolish grin still dancing on his lips.

"You do!"

"Merlin, don't be stupid!" she vociferated, not seeming ashamed anymore. There was even certain resoluteness in her voice and a hard glint on her eyes that made Merlin's look waver.

She then seemed to realize her own words.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to yell. And you're not stupid! I…You're being a bit right now, but that was no reason to..."

"Gwen, it's no big deal, really!" the warlock assured "You two would have to be quite about it, but there wouldn't be any major problems…What?"

Gwen had turned her head, and she was facing the ground 10 metres ahead, watching, but not really seeing.

"It…It is not Arthur who I fancy…" she said, her expression hidden by the shadows created by the trees.

"Then…who?" Merlin asked. Who did the maid, in fact, like, if not Arthur?

"It-It doesn't matter!" she said, and impelled her horse forwards in a throttle.

Following the other's example, and not wanting to stay behind, he did the same, now even more curious about Gwen's love interest. He quickly reached the castle.

Arthur and Morgana were already waiting for him; waiting for Merlin to take care of the horses, that is.

"And don't forget to wash them." said Arthur, after a full list of what the manservant was to do. Then, with a serious expression, he shoved the reins onto Merlin's hands and stormed away.

"What happened?" asked the raven-haired boy, in total confusion and innocence, to Morgana, who had delivered Snowflake gently to him.

"He lost." She explained, with a smirk.

He laughed as well, and entered the stables, waving goodbye to Gwen, who was leading her own horse home, and her mistress. Arthur sometimes could be a little childish. No, very childish.

He stepped inside the stables. It smelled, to say the least. Apparently, the stables' boy had finished cleaning the horses, for the floor was soaked wet, but didn't remember cleaning the stables itself. The horses' droppings were still scattered among the floor

Trying to cover his nose with the free hand he had left, he led Thunder, Snowflake and Kora to their respective places. Deciding that it was best to clean the dung first, he removed it with a shovel to a bucket. He took several trips outside to empty the bucket's content. When he had that task done, he sighed and looked at the sky. They sure had picked the best time to a trip. The sun was almost gone, and some dark clouds threatened showers for that same day. One day later, and they would've stayed home disappointed.

He returned inside, where the horses waited for their bath and he obliged much against his will. His legs were a bit sore from the riding and his back hurt due to the bending he had done while cleaning. He felt a bit too old right now.

"What's the point of being a sorcerer, when I can't use magic to help me in the simplest of chores?" he muttered, angrily, while pouring a bucket full of water onto Thunder's back. The horse whinnied.

"Ah, I bet you like that, don't you?" he mumbled, tough he couldn't find the strength to get mad at the horse.

After completing the so hated task, he still had to go to the prince's chambers, the one thing he despised the more than mucking out the stables. Why? Because the prince had a temper.

Merlin opened the door, afraid. The prince had a new mania everyday. Either he would have a tantrum about how the weather was too hot or he would shout at Merlin for making his clothes disappear. He though that was very insulting. Not because of the prospect of a wizard as powerful as him wasting his power on a petty prank (and he did it sometimes) was ridiculous. No, it was because Arthur was the one that kept leaving his clothes on the most unpredictable places. Like the kitchen. When has Arthur even set foot on a kitchen?

But, this time, nothing happened. The blonde was just sitting on the wooden carved chair in front of the fireplace, simply looking at the lit fire, the yellow light flickering calmly on his blue eyes.

"Sire, anything wrong?" Merlin asked, both politely, for he didn't want Arthur to start throwing things at him again, and suspicious of the quietness of the scene.

"No, Merlin. Everything's fine." he said, blankly, still looking at the fireplace.

"And that what's bothering me." he muttered, voice low so the prince wouldn't hear him, and drew nearer Arthur "Sire?"

The prince rolled his eyes and stared at his manservant. With annoyed stamped all over his face, he spelled:

"What is it?"

"What's wrong?" Merlin repeated, starting to get worried.

Arthur looked away again, clearly bothered.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" the younger boy echoed, already loosing his patience.

"I…I lost to Morgana." he finally admitted, with a frown, his right hand rubbing his temple lightly.

The servant fell silent for a moment, not believing what he had just heard, and then burst out laughing.

"I though you were….And that's it? You really are…" he managed to articulate between laughs and bending over his stomach.

The prince, however, did not find it a bit funny:

"Stop it, Merlin."

As the other did not obey, he smacked him in the head.

"OW!" Merlin cried "What was that for?"

"Remember your place!" the blonde hissed, hiding his embarrassed face, and making Merlin regain seriousness.

"Sorry, it's just that I find that a bit immature, Arthur."

The prince stared at him with vengeful eyes and said:

"It's 'Sire', not 'Arthur'.Don't forget that."

The will to laugh had now abandoned Merlin completely. He hated it when Arthur insisted on that barrier. Usually, he did it when he was in a bad mood. Today, that was the case.

"Sorry, sire." he gulped, getting a killer look by Arthur. There was just no way to please the prince.

"So, if that's all, I'll be going, sire." And he tried very, very hard to make the title sound unpleasant.

By the number of times Arthur called during the night under false pretexts, only to get him out of bed, he guess he managed to do it.

Merlin was right.

Arthur really was an immature prat.

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**Thank you very much for reading, please review and favourite, if you like it. Constructive Criticism is very welcome. And please notice that my first language isn't English.**

**Love,**

**Kironomi**


	2. Grand Collection

**Thank you all for the reviews and amazing feedback. If you find anything weird in the grammar, just let me know.**

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Chapter 2-"Grand Collection"

The crown prince woke up pissed off.

It took him some seconds to figure out why.

Then, a voice called him by his side, and the face of a man with ridiculously big ears appeared above him.

"Merlin…." he muttered, trying hard not to smack the manservant away from his field of vision.

"Yes, sire?"

"Move."

And, even if it was a simply words, with no sign of threat, the black-haired man jumped out of his sight, scared. Maybe that had to do with the fact they had quarrelled the night before. Smirking, Arthur sat up on the bed, ruffling his hair with his right hand and yawing loudly. Looking left at the window, he noticed the other reason he was such in a foul mood: It was raining.

The room was engulfed in a grey darkness, only lit by some feeble candles. Disappointed by the weather, he threw himself back to bed, pulling the velvet cover up over his head.

"Come on, Arthur! He heard the servant cry "It's almost breakfast time!" By the insolent tone in his voice, Merlin wasn't as scared of him as he had previously thought. Wondering what had happened, he slid off the bed, sleepy.

"How come the first thing I hear in the morning is your voice?" Arthur sneered, sitting at the table where breakfast waited.

"Bites me." Merlin admitted, grinning "Whose voice did you prefer to hear?"

"A girl's, of course!" he snapped, looking at the food. It was…proper. Though not very abundant, it was the right amount of food. Merlin did know at least how much the prince should eat, at least. He picked a loaf of bread and a mug filled with milk. He throat was a bit dry from sleeping. He wondered if he had over-slept. Since the sun was nowhere to be seen that morning, he wasn't sure what time it was.

"What time is it?" he asked, drinking the milk.

"I think it's around nine."

"Ah." He said, and took a bite on the bread, regretting it immediately.

"Urgh…This tastes awful!"

"What?" Merlin exclaimed, surprised "It's the same bread you eat every morning!"

"Then, why does it taste different?"

"I don't know!" the servant shouted at the prince, who stared at him "What?! It's not my fault?"

"So, it has to do with you!"

"No! Do you think I'd eat your bread and give you mine instead?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes "I didn't say that."

"Uh…So, hum, I…Ok!" Merlin looked desperate, his eyes shifty." I accidentally dropped your bread on the way here and they didn't have more of that kind, and I was running late, so I replaced it with the bread I usually eat."

Typical. Merlin had screwed up the simplest of tasks and was unable to make up to it. Why did Arthur insist in keeping him as his manservant?

"Because no other manservant would be willing to do what he does for you…" A little voice in his head told him, and he found out that he couldn't argue with the raven-haired boy. Sometimes, he could be so adorably innocent that Arthur couldn't have the guts to fire him. Wait-Adorable? No, that certainly isn't the term. It's more like….dorkily. Because princes weren't supposed to find menservants adorable.

"And I'm so sorry, Arthur! I just panicked, but if…"

"Shut up."

And the younger boy silenced himself, and held back any comments he was about to make. Thank god. He didn't need someone to be a pain in the ass and make his mind even foggier with thoughts.

But he found that the silence was almost as unbearing as the noise. No, more.

"So, hum…." Arthur started, clearing his throat "Where are we going today?"

He didn't believe he was asking for Merlin's opinion and neither did the raven-haired boy.

"Hum… Don't you have tasks to do, like checking on the guards and the knights?"

"Yeah, but that's only in the morning. I'm sure we have all afternoon at our disposal to do what we want."

"Oh." was Merlin's response.

"Then, what are we going to do on the awful weather and stuck inside the castle?"

"You know the castle better than I do, sire." Merlin said, his sarcasm carrying each word.

Arthur though for a bit, and had a brilliant idea. He would show the oldest part of the castle to Merlin. Well, excepting the dungeons and the caves bellow.

"I know, let's see the library."

Merlin, made a confused look.

"Arthur, I know the library. I've even read some books there."

"Not that library, you idiot!" he snapped, undignified. "The one that is closed."

"There is another library?"

"Yeah!" Arthur confirmed, getting up and opening the wardrobe. "Hum, I'm thinking red and black." he mumbled, looking at the messy inside of the closet.

"You can read?" Merlin asked, approaching the prince.

"What? Of course I can!" he exclaimed feeling outraged by Merlin's remark" I was taught when I was five!"

Did Merlin think he was an idiot or what? Wait, he did…

"I mean it like that; it's just that I don't find you bent over a book very often."

"Of course not, I have better things to do!"

"Like killing animals?"

"For example. Now, fetch the black leather jacket and the red, embroidered shirt." he commanded. And the black pants."

"So, you want to do something intellectual for a change?" Merlin teased, bluntly.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying I don't do intellectual stuff?"

"Something like that." The manservant mumbled, so low that Arthur almost didn't hear him.

"For your information, Merlin, I'm pretty intellectual." He said, irritated "And for how long do you intent on searching those clothes?"

"Found them!"

*

Merlin followed Arthur right beside him. He tried his best to ignore the Camelot's servants' golden rule: keeping, at least, a five-metre distance from their masters. That way, the noble in question would not need to be bothered by any unwelcome presence and would walk freely, while their servant would be at a fine distance to get something the noble wanted; simple, but so boring. Walking and talking to Arthur was much more fun. Thus, they could enjoy themselves whilst they wandered around the long aisles of the castle and the prince didn't need to shout at the manservant to keep up with him.

His eyes drifted to the windows. The rain fustigated them, falling almost horizontally in the stained glass. That was one of the things he loved most in Camelot. The colourful windows, painted in red, green and blue and other colours that Merlin hadn't seen that alive before. The droplets of water slipped down the glass, and the small light from outside reflected on them, and was projected by the window to the wall, forming shadows that seemed alive. Merlin wondered if he was the only one that noticed it, for the other servants and noblemen stroll down the corridors with their eyes fixed ahead, looking and not seeing.

Not even noticing the funny and enchanting patterns on the arabesque curves of the castle. Its vaults, mysteriously hanging in the air, decorated with lit candelabra, and enclosing the very place they were standing. How much they were missing for being oblivious and how much Merlin would like to know how the ceiling could be so round and complicated and yet look like a human ribcage, with strange arches.

"Come on Merlin, we haven't got all day!" Arthur protested, dragging Merlin out of his contemplation, and them to turn right in a passage.

The castle was always crowded with servants, bowing to their superiors and getting no bows on return, but Merlin noticed that, the deeper they got into the castle and the further they walked, the more desolate and ancient the castle looked. They faced some stairs, with worn out steps, certainly spent after so many people walking over them over the years. Merlin was worried they would descent to the underground part of the castle, but, fortunately, Arthur went upstairs instead. He really didn't want to go nearer the place the dragon was, especially with Arthur.

The corridors in the floor above were just as dark and considerably more mysterious and, well…scary.

Finally, they reached two big doors, made of mahogany, and Arthur grabbed his set of keys, opening the entrance with great difficulty. It squeaked, loudly, and revealed something that Merlin wasn't quite expecting it to.

"Arthur, this is…"

"Huge?"

"Grand!"

It was astonishing! There weren't many books in the long and tall shelves, but the equipment in the middle compensated it.

He entered, following Arthur, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the big table on the centre of the room, and the prince headed automatically to the shelves in the bottom.

The table seemed to be made of a similar material to the one of the door, and was covered in a thick layer of dust. On top of it, there were many scientific instruments. Test tubes, one still had a strange liquid inside that had surely gone solid a long time ago, rested on their wooden support, like the one Gaius had on his chambers. Merlin picked up the full tube, and lifted it, making some cobwebs attached to the glass break and fall onto the table, with no sound. He stirred it a bit and saw that he was right; the red contents of the tube were like a rock. He placed it back, the mark of his fingers now visible in the container, and directed his look to another instrument. A metal scissor, with sharp ends, so sharp that Merlin decided against touching it, and covered with intricate patterns was on the top of the table. There were also several containers. One made of glass that seemed to be very expensive, and four made of metal, with the same patterns and symbols than the ones of the scissor. They were all equally old and filled with dust. On the centre of the table there was, again, the same symbol. It was circular, and Merlin thought he could figure out an eye and a tail underneath all the dust. It looked like a snake, but he wasn't sure.

"Why are these instruments here?" asked Merlin, tracing the fire with his finger, wiping some of the dust out.

"Before, you know, the Great Purge, Gaius used to execute his duty as the court physician right here, but, since it was too far away for emergencies, he moved to where he is now." Arthur informed him.

Merlin looked around the dusty shelves and saw that there were only two windows, on the right side of the room. What a creepy place for a doctor surgery. If Arthur hadn't lit up two torches in the wall, he wouldn't be able to see a thing!

He abandoned the table and joined Arthur at the bookshelves.

"What kind of books are here?"

"Most of them are scientific or religious, but there are some about hunting and things like that."

He walked slowly around the room, trying to see some book that captured his interest among the piles of red, black a brow covers. "Even though the book that's perfect for me is my book of magic." He though to himself, feeling Arthur passing hastily behind him, directed to a shelf. He looked at the blond and saw him pick up a medium-sized, red leather book.

"What is that?" he asked, walking towards the prince, and hoping that the answer wouldn't be a very sarcastic "It's a book."

"It's my manners book."

Merlin held a laugh"Manners book?"

"Yes." Confirmed Arthur, still absorbed in the book" I learned the costumes and traditions of the Royal household both through this book and my father. This book even says what do do in a hunt, how to dance and how to lift my cup in salute!"

"That's a lot!" Merlin said, and Arthur didn't notice the sarcasm." And don't you still need it to check how to behave?"

"Of course not!" Arthur laughed, putting the book back on the shelf "My current behaviour is totally one of a prince!"

Merlin coughed. Right.

"But what is it doing here?"

"Well, it is a book that belongs only to princes, so I guess they didn't need it anymore, since I'm already of age to be a king."

"Ah." So that was the way it worked. They trained the prince until a certain age. He remembered the ceremony of Arthur's coming of age. So that was all about training. Royalty was confusing.

He then noticed a door to his right. How come he had not noticed it before? Perhaps because it was almost the same colour of the shelves, he wondered. It was squeezed between them, very tall and narrow.

"Where does this door lead to?"

The prince turned around and eyed the door cautiously, before answering:

"To restricted part of the library."

"More restricted than the library itself."

"Yeah, it's strictly forbidden." He informed him, giving a strange emphasis to the word 'forbidden', his eyes twinkling slightly at the minimum light.

"And I supposed you don't want to enter?" the manservant insinuated, smirking.

"You know me better than I do." And saying that, he grabbed another key and opened the door. The chamber's air was stiff and heavy, and it smelled like mould. The door hadn't obviously been open in a while. The collection in this room was slightly less than the one in the antechamber, but something made Merlin tremble with excitement. There was a very mysterious aura in the room, very still, and yet alive. One could feel a faint heartbeat; a sign of life. His senses were improving since he had arrived in Camelot. It was like his magic reacted better in a place where he couldn't use it, even if Merlin didn't understand why. He inhaled a bit of air. Again, the same heavy feel about it, but now he sensed something else. Some kind of dust; not the one that appeared over time, it was…magical. Incense, he thought, or something of an even sweeter redolence. What kind of place was this?

"I only entered this room once, when I was nine." Arthur told him, lighting up some candles on the wall so they could provide any light to the darkened room. "And I got the sermon of a lifetime."

"Then, how come you have the key?"

"I managed to get a duplicate." He said, smirking. Arthur sure was brave, defying Uther like that.

"Then why haven't you come here before?"

Arthur stared at him, his eyebrow raised.

"You really are a pain in my royal ass, Merlin! I haven't come here because I was a bit too scared of my father. But I'm old enough now to understand whatever lies in here!"

"How…wise!" he mumbled, not believing that the usually reckless prince had behaved reasonably about something like that.

He turned to the room again. It was divided in three rows of tall shelves, with little room in between them. Arthur turned to his right and Merlin went to his left. He wondered what kind of books the room contained to be named as forbidden. Strolling down the aisle, his eyes focused automatically on a big book with a deep red cover. A chilled crept up his neck and he knew the book was dangerous. What told him that? Maybe his instinct? No…definitely his magic. He could feel his body get warmer and his eyes turn golden.

Uneasy, he touched the tome and, instantly, a flash of white light crossed his eyes and he saw images of magic. A woman with hair made of fire screaming words similar to the ones he used to cast spells; a snake slithering towards him, its intention clear, "I want to kill you." it said, voice dragged, and Merlin saw it was enormous. A tower appeared, dissolving the snake, engulfed by flames, surrounded by giants. Then, a blizzard came and swallowed the fire. Merlin felt the cold creeping into his bones, and the tower turned into a castle of ice. It was so confusing and dream-like, but it was painfully real. He gasped and released the book, and it fell on the floor.

He tripped backwards, his back hit the bookshelf behind, rocking some of the books. It had been so quick… He panted heavily, like he had run a mile after a horse, and felt so afraid. He touched the book with his foot, testing. Nothing happened.

That was magic! What kind of magic was that?

"Merlin, don't go around throwing books!"

Merlin jumped.

"Oh, it's you."

"Who did you expected it to be, you idiot?"

Merlin ignored the question and tried hard to catch his breath. The prince bent over and picked the book. Merlin gasped again. Would Arthur see the same as him? If he did, he might thing he was the one to blame!

But the prince just got up with the book in his hand, without even looking at it, mouth open to talk. Then, he stopped, looking at Merlin with his eyebrows united. Staring at him and seeming puzzled.

"What?"

"Merlin…What happened to your eyes?"

The warlock turned around immediately, shocked, and closed his eyes, calling his magic so they would change back.

"What…what do you mean?" he asked, trying to stall the prince, who was now placing a hand on his shoulder. God, he had seen him! He had seen him! Oh my god, he was going to die because of some stupid book.

"Their colour's… different." Arthur said, making Merlin turn around.

He felt his eyes go lighter and a wave of relief crossed him. He opened them and saw Arthur staring intensively at his face.

"I had…something in my eyes!" he tried, lifting his eyebrows high and faking a smile, when his entire body was shaking in terror." M-must be the dust!"

"Yeah…" was the prince's answer "And what book were you reading anyway?"

And, asking that, he opened it and his eyes widened as he saw the drawing of several ingredients. It was a page about potions brewing.

"This…this is a book of magic!"

Merlin faked surprise, and placed a hand on the page, pretending to read it, and brushing his thumb on Arthur's. The prince looked at him, and Merlin felt his cheeks redden, under his gaze. He heart thumped harder and a chilly breeze made him shiver, even if the air in the room didn't flow cold.

"I thought they were all destroyed in the Great Purge." Merlin tried, breaking the silence.

"Apparently not."

"Will you tell your father?"

"He doesn't know we're here, does he?"

"No."

Arthur fell silent.

"L-Let's get out, Arthur."

"Yeah, let's." the prince responded, nervously, putting out the candles he had lit and exiting the room with the warlock, sealing both their lips.

* * *

**See you next week and thanks for reviewing!**

**Love, **

**Kironomi**


	3. The Hunt

Chapter 3- "The Hunt"

Arthur laughed as a stumbling Merlin carried with difficulty his saddle to Thunder's side, only to drop it loudly on the ground, he falling right after.

"You truly _are_ useless." The prince mocked. Making fun of the poor manservant was the most amusing thing he ever did. Even better than fighting, he dared to say. Or think, because he would never give Merlin the satisfaction of knowing _he_ was one of his favourite hobbies. Still, he helped him buckle the saddle on the horse's back, carefully putting his hands over Merlin's and on the places that were important, so the servant wouldn't forget them later, as if that'd avoid anything. It was something remarkable, but the boy seemed to always forget what he was supposed to do!

"And you have to fasten it like this, you understand?"

Merlin nodded frantically, looking awkwardly on his own hands, open under Arthur's, their fingers curiously intertwined. He was blushing slightly, Arthur noticed, as a pink blush crept into his cheeks.

"Hum…" Arthur cleared his throat, removing his stupid hands that ought to know to keep to themselves away by now "Yeah, that's right."

And, if neither he nor Merlin knew what he was agreeing to, they didn't say it out loud. Arthur simply evaporated into the background, in the shadows of the dark stable, as Merlin entered the storage, getting out moments later with a black bridle on his hands.

The manservant actually performed the task of bridling the horse flawlessly. He even remembered to stand on the left side and didn't forget a single piece; he was improving, Arthur had to admit at least that.

"Good work." This time, you managed to do it without tripping over yourself!"

"Thank you, sire." Merlin replied, obviously either not noticing the sarcasm on Arthur's voice or simply ignoring it "What are we hunting today?"

"Boar."

"Oh. " Merlin commented, tugging some loose straps of leather he had attached to the animal "I'm surprised your father allowed you to hunt with only two knights and a servant."

"Yeah, I'm lucky." he said, though he didn't mean it. The weather was nice that morning. The sun wasn't as shiny as it could be, but it was sunny enough for a quick hunting trip.

He mounted the horse, as Merlin seemed to be done with all the preparations, and exited the stables into the courtyard. Much to his dismay, small puddles of water were still resting in the cobblestone pavement and the sky was getting a bit darker than it was half an hour ago, when he had entered the stables with Merlin.

The knights, Sir Bradan and Sir Llywelyn, were already waiting for them in the courtyard.

"Good morning, sire." The two said, breaking the silence.

"Sir Bradan, Sir Llywelyn." Arthur acknowledged "Let's hunt."

And, with that said, the four men throttled away, reaching the forest quickly. Arthur was quite excited with the prospect of hunting again. It had been at least two weeks since the last time, and, liking to hunt as much as he did, it was almost unbearable. But now they were in the quiet forest. Only the wind and the hoods hitting the ground could be heard; the birds had probably flown south or had hidden themselves in the trees.

"We'll leave our horses here." he commanded, sliding from the top of the horse gracefully. The cold wind ruffled his hair, as it had during the ride. He probably should cut it; it was getting too long for his own good, and didn't want to come a day when he'd be defeated because he was distracted by his own hair. But that'd never happen, of course. He then tied a rein to the nearest tree.

"The leaves are beautiful!" he heard Merlin exclaim, to his right. That comment made Arthur look around. The ground was covered in multi-coloured leaves. Even the rocks were covered, merging perfectly with the floor. Looking up, he saw leaves falling from the surrounding trees, releasing themselves from that natural prison and dancing down in swirls of red and orange, before landing swiftly on the top of others.

"Yeah, you're right." he admitted, smiling "They _are_ beautiful." But the smile quickly turned into a frown, seeing the knights exchanging a meaningful look.

"Oh, but do shut up, Merlin. We are not here to enjoy the sights!" Arthur sneered, against his will, and forced a laugh. Merlin opened his mouth to retort with a surely piercing answer, but just glared at the prince and turned away with a pained look on his eyes. Arthur scratched his forehead softly, feeling mad at himself. After all the problems he and Merlin went through, he still managed to feel embarrassed of talking with him in front of his knights. But that had a reason, and a very strong one at that.

No-one, apart from Morgana, Guinevere and Gaius, knew he and Merlin were friends; no-one knew they shared their secrets with each other; no-one knew that he was more than a servant to him. If they did, he'd be the laughing stock of Camelot. He could imagine it…Maids whispering in corners; knights starting to disobey him; his father being… well, his father couldn't get any worse by now. It hurt him to treat him like the servant he was, just to keep the appearances, because one thing is threatening Merlin because he is misbehaving; another, very different, is to reprimand him when he'd done nothing wrong. And then he'd have to endure the 'I'm just like a lost puppy' look, which had become Merlin's primary expression.

Merlin shoved a knife onto Arthur's hands, not looking at him, and grabbed a spear in the horse's back.

"Oh, he's mad." he immediately thought, giving Merlin every right to be angry by not smacking him in the head, a thing that he'd very much like to do right now. He turned around and entered a stray path, followed closely by the knights and the manservant.

The forest was awfully quiet. "Too quiet." He thought. The knights were silent as well, even in all that armour. Of course, the only sounds they actually produced were the leaves being crushed under their feet and Merlin precariously slamming Arthur's spear against any and every tree he crossed ways with. Arthur looked up, slightly startled by a noise that came from above, probably a bird, and saw, through some spaces between the canopies of the trees, that the sunlight was gradually vanishing. He hoped to god it wouldn't rain. By now, the forest was so dense he'd have to duck several times to avoid hitting branches. Arthur was walking with his armour and, now and then, it would snap some twigs, but the noise it provoked was way less loud than the noise Merlin managed to do.

He deviated another twig from his front, passed, and let it go. A whimper behind him informed him that it had hit Merlin. Arthur smirk, feeling a bit satisfied with himself.

A stronger grunt, without a reason, was heard and Arthur turned around to face his manservant, eyebrows high in what he hoped to have seemed exasperation.

"What?" Merlin cried "It wasn't me!"

He was right. Now that he thought of it, the sound had come from somewhere in front of Arthur. Turning around again, he explored further and the dense forest ended to give way to a wide clearing. There, he saw a boar.

Not just any boar, he reckoned an enormous boar! Its fur was coal-dark and his longs tusks pointed potently towards the sky. Its head was bent over to eat some grass, but Arthur could, even from that distance, see the strange glint on the animal's eyes. It seemed almost…evil.

Arthur winced, leaving no sound. "God, that is one hell of a boar." He thought. Merlin whimpered again.

"Shush!" he ordered him, then proceeding to give his knights instructions to surround the boar. "Sir Bradan, go around by the left. Sir Llywelyn, go by your right." He gestured to each direction "Don't make any noise and try to lead him to the centre of the clear. I'll strike him on the front."

"yes, sir." They agreed, and obeyed and swiftly and fast as they could.

Arthur looked at his manservant and whispered "Try not to make any noise, Merlin."

The other boy nodded, not looking at his master in the eyes.

The silence made Arthur remember what he had suddenly forgotten with excitement of seeing the animal. He felt his stomach twist with guilt and he looked at the clearing, deciding that not looking at Merlin was the best.

But, much against his own decision, he spoke.

"Look, I am sorry, Merlin."

He felt those blue orbs focusing on him, but he wasn't going to retreat on his apology.

"What did you say? I did get that…"

Oh, the bastard was making fun of him now. He heard him correctly! Still, he rephrased his apology, swallowing his pride.

"I'm sorry for treating you like that in front of the knights." He tempted a look at Merlin, and saw that he was smirking "They wouldn't…understand."

Merlin's smirk turned into a true smile, the one he usually wore when he talked to Gwen or Morgana. "Wouldn't understand what?" he voiced, trying to hide his smile but not quite achieving it.

Arthur looked away again "Our…Friendship."

"And do you understand our friendship?" Merlin inquired, choking a little.

Arthur paused for a bit, just thinking. Did he know? Did he care? Did he understand? Because it all came to that, and he wasn't sure he was ready to think that big problem through.

"No…"

Seconds later, he felt something wet on his hair; Water.

"It's raining." Merlin observed, brilliantly.

"Yeah…"

The sun was now completely gone, and Arthur wondered how many minutes had passed since he'd stared to the sky. Drops of water, becoming increasingly heavier, were falling down, wetting the surrounding plants and trees. Arthur looked back at the clear and saw the knights hiding in the wood, ready. He gave them the signal and they drew closer to the boar, silently approaching from behind.

"My spear, Merlin." He said, serious.

The younger man gave him the weapon and wished him good luck. Arthur snorted as quietly as he could. It was just a big, scary boar. What harm could it do?

"Don't worry; he'll have him as dinner." He gripped his shield and entered the clearing.

The boar didn't notice him at first, but when Arthur was already seven metres away, the beast lifted its head from the remaining grass he was chewing on, and stared at the prince; Suspicious.

"God, those tusks really are pointy." He thought, not afraid, but stunned instead.

The other two knights raised their swords and pointed it at the animal, just in case.

"This is it." He mentally declared, his insides turning into jelly "One merciful blow."

He then lifted his spear and, with a strong grip, threw it towards the boar.

*

Merlin dug his nails into the bark of the tree with fear. The prince was walking towards the boar carefully, but something in the beast's eyes made him weary. He saw the prince raise his weapon and threw it, but the unpredictable happened, The boar started to run and the spear missed.

Arthur raced towards the place Merlin was hiding at, shouting:

"Merlin, run!"

He moved, not away, but to Arthur's side. The boar was going to hit Arthur!

And, with that on his mind, he threw himself in front of the prince. But, thanks to his misfortune, he tripped over something on the ground and fell on his face. The boar passed right by him and, then, Merlin heard a loud thud. Not knowing what had happened, Merlin tried to get up, only to fall back on his face again. Using every ounce of strength in his body, he rolled over and supported his body on his elbows, and stared at the prince and the boar.

Arthur bent over the beast, unsheathed his sword and slit the animal's throat. Merlin closed his eyes, disgusted. He had never been the one to enjoy seeing animals being killed, even if they had threatened his life. Also, he didn't like it when Arthur dirtied his hands.

He heard the knights rummaging to Arthur's side

"Good throw, Sir Bradan." He heard the prince compliment. Ah, that must've been what had happened. He let himself fall back on the damp ground; his clothes couldn't get any wetter, he thought. He was wrong. Now they were wet _and _dirty with mud.

"You IDIOT!" the prince bellowed, and Merlin sighed and opened his eyes.

"S-Sorry." He managed to mutter under the blonde's fierce gaze. He sat and stretched his legs. He tried spinning his right foot; nothing wrong with that, at least.

"Sorry? Sorry?! You could have gotten yourself killed!" Arthur shouted, angrier than ever, and he wondered if the prince had noticed how the knights were looking at him. "Don't you think Sir Llywelyn and Sir Bradan could have handled it?"

Merlin blushed, he hadn't considered that. He hadn't had the time to think! He tentatively tried moving his left foot.

"Y-yes sire, but-Ouch!"

Arthur halted, seeming worried.

"Are you hurt?" he asked hastily, bending down to Merlin's side.

"I…Ouch! Yes, my left foot! I must've tripped on it!"

Arthur laughed dryly.

"You clumsy git…Only you to trip over your own feet!" And , saying that, he passed Merlin's arm over his head. Resting it on his shoulder, he impelled Merlin up with ease. Honestly, Arthur was full of contradictions; he kept on helping Merlin at the same time he insulted him. Limping, he raised his left foot and, supported by the prince, they started walking back to the horses.

The prince shouted some orders about carrying the boar to the knights and then continued walking. What would they think of Arthur, helping a servant like a comrade? They _were_ comrades, but the knights didn't know that. The prince seemed above all that, and kept dragging Merlin to Thunder's side and helped him up on the horse, a task that would have been impossible without Arthur's strength.

He jumped to the top of the horse shortly after and, with a kick in the horse's stomach, they stared galloping back to the castle under the heavy rain.

Since his ankle hurt, he found himself without any strength on his legs to grab himself onto the horse. So, the warlock sighed and embraced the prince's waist. He rested his head on his shoulder, feeling Arthur's blonde and very wet locks brushing his face. His hair would surely be in a similar condition, for he was as drenched as Arthur. The movements of the horse's gallop made them involuntarily rub against each other. Merlin's chest against Arthur's back. It was a rough kind of touch, yet he found himself enjoying it. His arms fitted nicely around Arthur's waist and they somehow were ridding at the same rhythm, even if Merlin managed to almost fall off the horse once or twice. Ok, maybe three times. It wasn't his fault the horse was nervous with all those thunders. "Why does he even have that name if he's afraid of them?" he though, momentarily forgetting his ankle was hurting.

"Why did you do that?" the prince shouted violently, startling Merlin.

"I-I don't know!" he answered, a little louder than he needed to, since he was close to Arthur's ear." The boar was going against you and I just-Ow!" His left foot accidently hit Thunder's stomach.

"Are you ok?"

"yes." he lied; he didn't want Arthur to shout even more. His ears were already ringing. "Where are we going?"

"Gaius, what do you think?"

Merlin smiled against the wet fabric on the prince's shoulder. It was weird, but if felt good when Arthur worried so much.

"Thanks." He muttered, getting no answer from the blonde.

In no time, they spotted the Camelot in the horizon and Arthur rode Thunder even faster, if possible. The crossed the gates into the main square. Then, Arthur helped Merlin out of the horse, and the manservant noticed how kindly Arthur was treating him. Every gesture, every touch seemed to take a great deal of concentration by the prince, and Merlin wondered why he cared that much.

The reached Gaius' chambers some minutes later, Merlin practically dragging himself and trying to avoid any physical contact with his injured foot. A task that was very difficult, for Arthur kept bumping into every damn corner.

Arthur dropped Merlin on the bed and collapsed on the nearest chair, exhausted. The manservant tried to find a comfortable position on that hard mattress. He failed to.

He stared at the breathless Arthur, then looked around and found out that they were alone. "Hey, where's Gaius?"

"Probably doing his duty as the court physician." The prince said, throwing his head back with his eyes still closed "I'll keep you company until then."

"Thank you, Arthur." The raven-haired boy muttered, closing his eyes and sniffing. His clothes were so wet he'd probably get a cold, and the prince would as well. He could hear his coughing, and his golden hair was dripping. He could have just gone to his chambers and cleaned up, get a nice rest. Why was he there with Merlin, obviously cold and wet?

Merlin moved his left foot to a more comfortable position, and the pain stabbed him again.

"Ouch!"

The prince rolled his eyes and got up.

"Don't be such a baby, Merlin." He mocked, bending over the bed with a jocular smile. He grabbed the manservant's injured foot and lifted it, grinning.

"O-ouch! Ow! Ow! Stop!" Merlin shouted, shaking his free foot wildly in the air. Arthur just laughed, still holding his ankle. Did he enjoy tormenting him that much? He kicked his foot the highest he could and felt it hit something hard. Looking up, he saw the prince covering up his nose with his hands.

Petrified, he gazed at him.

"Ow, Merlin!You moron!"

"That-that was an accident!" Merlin, replied, not quite being able to hold back a laugh, which clearly made Arthur angrier.

"I'm going to kill you!" the blonde shouted, grabbing the leg that had hit him and forcing it to bend over Merlin's stomach.

"Stop!That hurts, you prat!"

The grip lessened.

"What did you called me?"

"Nothing!" Merlin hurried to say.

"Hum…" Arthur mumbled, jumping onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked, slightly panicked by the look the prince was giving him.

"I…" Arthur hissed "Am going to murder you." He said, and started tickling the warlock.

"Hehe…Stop!" Merlin screamed, like an utter idiot, he was sure was thinking that, giving kicks in the air, his foot hurting at the same time. "Ouch! That's my stomach, you git!"

Arthur slowly stopped the tickling and Merlin halted with his feet in the air. He had called the prince…a git. Oh, god, he was to be thrown in the stocks, injured or not! He looked up and noticed that, shockingly, the prince didn't seem mad. He then, with a greater shock, saw his legs crossed behind the royal's back, making Arthur lean forward. The prince's face was buried in darkness and unreadable, but he didn't dare to move. It was Arthur the first to do anything at all and he put his hands on Merlin's thighs.

The servant gasped, but no sound left his mouth; he was frozen in that strange position and locked in that awkward silence, and it somehow felt so good he didn't feel like complaining. Not when the prince was gazing at his own hands, gripped tightly on Merlin's legs and especially not when he slid them down the warlock's cheap fabric, making him involuntarily shiver at the gentle, arousing touch. What was Arthur doing? He felt Arthur lean forward more than he saw it, for his pants rustled against his and his hands were now on the servant's belly.

The prince lifted his face and stared at Merlin, leaning even further and a curious look spread across his features.

_Bang._

The two boys broke apart; Merlin uncrossed his legs, Arthur jumped out of the bed and turned around to face the other side of the room and Gaius entered.

"Damn bucket, always-" Gaius stopped in mid-sentence, his look altering between Merlin, who had decided to turn on his bed to face the very interesting wall and Arthur, who was fixing his gaze desperately on a red jar on a shelf.

"What's going on?" Merlin heard the physician ask and Arthur reply.

"Merlin has injured himself during the hunt."

Gaius hurried over him.

"Merlin! Are you well?"

"No, Gaius" he said, in a muffled voice "I am not. My left foot hurts a lot."

"Oh." Gaius said, and he sounded somewhat disappointed. Merlin guessed that had to do with the many fatal injuries he had had before; the foot injury sounded like something really plain compared to those "I'll get some ice. Sire, are you leaving?" Merlin didn't turn. He was a bit too shocked to see Arthur right now.

Arthur let out a sound one could translate as "yes", and a moment later, he heard the door closing. He turned his face again and saw Gaius staring at him.

"And besides that foot?"

"What do you mean?"

"The prince was acting strange, _you're_ acting strange." He said, eyeing the warlock from above the glasses "Something happened."

"How the hell could you possibly tell that from a one minute conversation?" Merlin asked, sitting on the bed with his legs outstretched.

"Exactly because it was so quick; usually the prince would have spent his time insulting you." Gaius replied, with a sharp smile.

"Oh." Merlin managed to mouth.

"So?"

"Hum…" he hesitated. Did Gaius need to know anything that had happened? Surely not! Bothering the physician with such…sordid events would be too much. "Gaius, my foot is hurting a lot, so if you could just…"

Gaius rolled his eyes and went to pick the usual medicinal herbs and bandages and Merlin convinced himself that whatever the prince had tried to do was purely a fluke.


	4. Guinevere's advice

**Thank you so much for the amazing reviews.I love them and I answer them personally. Sorry for taking so long updating. I know, I know...I really love writing, but lately I have been having problems in school( that, thankfully, I have overcome). Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4 "Guinevere's advice"

Arthur leaned over the door, breathing heavily, while trying to overhear Merlin's conversation with Gaius. He only heard his name once and nothing more that he could make good use of. Giving up, he walked all the way to his room as fast as he could, ideas storming in his brain. He did not stop, and by the time he reached his chambers he was breathless.

He didn't know why he was panting that hard, if it was for the long distance he had just run or for the bizarre events in Gaius' chambers. His heart beat fast against his damp chest, and his face burned with heat. Only then he noticed he was soaked in water, and, randomly selection some clothing, he went behind his screen and changed, all that while avoiding that small place in his head that kept reviving what had happened. Eventually he jumped onto the bed, grunting, no longer feeling his surroundings. He could not notice the velvet cover or the big fluffy pillow under his head, he didn't remember if he had taken his boots off or if he was indeed in his room and not out there hunting any more. Many things were wrong with him at the same time. The usually warm sheets felt incredibly cold now at the touch with his skin; his head hurt like he had been his with a boulder; and, the most significant fact of all, a certain part of his body was showing a certain interest that was usually not shown except for a very different situation.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to abate the images ravishing his thoughts. Merlin's wet shirt grazing his skin, his pink, moist lips, the way his legs fit nicely behind him, almost inviting him…

He turned in his bed. That was it, wasn't it? It was Merlin's fault. He was the one that had made him lean and try to…and try to… Dear god! He would have to berate him later for that.

His stomach twisted and he thought instantly of illness.

"Damn it. Now my father's going to forbid me from going hunting or something like that. All thanks to that prick." He cursed, deciding that all that went badly on that day had been his manservant's fault.

He heard a knock on the door. Sighing, for he already could guess what the matter was, he replied with a "Come in".

Prying through his right eyes, he saw a servant boy at the door.

"Sire, the King requests your presence at the throne room."

"Thank you. Tell him I'll be there in five minutes."

"Thank you sire" the boy replied, and left. Sighing once again, Arthur got up and walked painfully slow to the mirror, where he tried to make it look like he hadn't just been threatened by a wild boar or that he had to return to the castle with his manservant attached to his back while the skies drained all their water on top of him; A hard task that he promptly failed, so he resigned himself with just having his hair neatly done and headed to meet his father.

By the time he reached there, he had already revived the scene with Merlin about five times, all of them silenced with a very angry "Fuck!" that he hoped no-one had heard.

His father was currently alone, bent over some maps dimly lit by the flickering flames of scarce torches.

"Father." He said, hoping to be acknowledged. Uther didn't bother to look up, still looking mesmerized by a map of what Arthur thought was The White Mountains and limited to beckon him with a finger.

"I need you to undertake an expedition to a county in the White Mountains." He informed, not bothering for a greeting or any formalities of the sort.

Arthur was surprised with that sudden request. He had never heard about a county placed on Camelot.

"A county, your highness?"

"Yes, it is placed on a valley surrounded by the White Mountains, so it won't take more than two days to reach it."

"And what is the reason of this trip?" he asked, eyeing the maps on the table and finding that there was, indeed, a small county on that spot. It seemed to be composed only by the land on the valley crossed by a small river.

"Valhalla…" he read, seeing the tiny inscription next to the valley "What language is that?"

"That's the language they use in the home country. It translates as "feast of the dead"."

"Ha." Arthur breathed out, feeling tired. "What a strange name."

"I wouldn't advice you to laugh about it." His father told him, looking at him for the first time. He seemed a bit confused for a moment, and Arthur wondered if he was still as red as before, but since his father ignored it a just limited to continue talking, he paid no attention to it. "They have different believes from ours. They pray to….multiple gods."

Uther closed his eyes and his hand crawled on to the cross on his chest, or at least the bump on his shirt that indicated it. Arthur knew he was a religious man, probably because of what he called "magic freaks". He was too, to a certain degree. It was important to him, to know that, even if he was the king's son, he wasn't the most important thing, that royalty wasn't the most important thing. His people were the most important thing and he could not look after them all. He liked to know there was someone out there guarding him, guarding them. That there was an after, and that things weren't definitive.

"Of course, that is rubbish!" Uther spat, head down gazing at the maps. "But our ancestors believed that as well, and protected them!"

He paused, eyeing his son. Arthur knew he was supposed to agree with him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. After all, what rights did he have in forcing people on worshiping a certain god? Even if he would be a king, someday, he wouldn't want to be the kind that is forceful or oppressive; at least, if matters didn't tend towards the magic side. On that matter, he was suspicious, like his father.

"We will need a party of four knights." His father rasped, seeming eager to finish the meeting

"Yes, I will tend to the arrangements." He concluded, and made to leave once again.

"Oh, and Arthur…take your manservant. God knows our knights can't cook."

"Yes." He agreed, and his throat felt dry all over again.

*

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed.

The warlock blinked, stopping the movement of the cleaning cloth over the shiny metal.

"You called, sire?" he asked, after looking up to a fuming Arthur and looking back at the chest plate with renewed interest.

"Yes." He answered, his voice seeming to contain ounces of anger "Four times, actually."

Merlin blushed. He had been so absorbed polishing the prince's armour that he had not noticed the blonde entering the armoury until he was literally on top of him.

"Oh. Sorry. You need anything?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and recollected.

"In matter of fact, I do." Arthur confessed, pausing for a moment and leaning against the door, still looking pretty menacing "I am going on a trip to a kingdom in the White Mountains next week to meet its king to reinforce our alliance."

Merlin turned around and, resuming polishing Arthur's armour, inquired, pusillanimously "How long will it last?"

"Oh, about a week and a half."

Merlin grinned. Over a week off! Of course, he would have to run errands for Gaius and he would still be at every nobleman in the castle's service, but he finally would have his well-deserved rest. Oh, how wonderful! Maybe he would even be able to learn some new spells and finally be at peace and ponder on what had happened two days before…

"You're coming with me." Arthur informed, eyeing him with a vacant and closed expression, his voice resolute.

Merlin dropped the chest plate with a clatter, and exclaimed "What?"

"I take it that you're not too pleased about it." Arthur said, with what he could define as being a very amusing tone.

"Oh, of course I'm pleased!" he blurted out, and tried to keep his next words as low as he could, for fear of an exaggerated reaction "Why wouldn't I love to wash the dirty undergarments of some random knights?"

Arthur limited to laugh, the bastard, before answering.

"Well, it is your job." He said, without even trying to give an apology of some sort, and, when Merlin tried to get up with a great dramatic effect and only managed to fall back on the floor, armour tumbling together with him, laughed harder.

The manservant got up quickly, red with anger and embarrassment, and made way to exit the armoury after putting the gauntlets, chest plate and helmet on its proper places.

"By the way…" started Arthur and Merlin tilted his head towards him, waiting for the prince to continue "Are you feeling better?"

Merlin immediately felt his cheeks get hotter. Just when he was trying to forget what had happened… It wouldn't be easy. After all, it had taken a whole day for that minor injury to heal, a day off, he might add. And a day without the prince had been enough to just start sorting his thoughts out.

"Yeah…" he replied, and added for what it felt like the one hundredth time "Thanks."

He then left the storage room, without giving time for the prince to talk again. The flush had already spread to his ears by the time he was finally in safe grounds, walking towards' his bedroom. Thanks to god, the only duty he had left that day would be seeing that the prince was well, and that would be only hours later. He truly didn't like avoiding Arthur, but that seemed the wisest decision by now. He knew what Arthur had tried to do two days before. He didn't want to confront him about it. Actually, just seeing Arthur made him want to flee from whichever chamber he was in; especially if they were alone. The situation he had gotten himself into was both awkward and the sort of thing that should be talked out of as soon as he could, but he tried really hard to convince himself that it had been no big deal. He tried to make it seem like it hadn't meant something to him, which was something both totally erroneous and ludicrous, but he had actually felt something right before Gaius had walked in on them.

He turned left on a passage and collided with someone. They smelled of metal and flowers, and it didn't take him too long to figure out that Gwen was the one that had fallen.

"Sorry, Gwen!" he said, and offered her a hand "I was distracted."

"Of course." She commented, taking his hand and getting up with a playful smile that Merlin didn't know she was capable of having. But the stunning effect of her confident stare was ruined when she added, quickly "Not that I am suggesting that you fall all the time! I mean, you do. But you're a nice boy." She concluded, her cheeks also seeming a bit red.

Merlin chuckled. "So I am a good boy?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow, and Gwen frowned, though still quirking her lips a bit too up for a successfully grumpy effect. She then picked up the basket she was carrying and motioned him with a finger, to follow her. Curious, he obliged, and they strolled calmly through the castle, the only servants that weren't running or with any sort of haste.

"I heard you got hurt." She said, sounding too in deep-thought for it to be the beginning of a pleasurable talk.

"Yeah. I'm better now, though." He replied, rotating his ankle as if to demonstrate he no longer felt pain." And I'm travelling next week" he added.

"You don't sound too happy about it."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, almost too suddenly.

"I don't know. You just look a bit sad."

"This is the first time you've seen me in the last two days. How could you possibly have noticed that?"

Gwen suddenly stopped, under the light that shone through a stained glass window, on an alcove.

"So something did happen two days ago for you to be like that."

"Huh?" he brilliantly asked.

"Like you just said, I haven't seen you for two days, the day of the hunting trip, and you just admitted you were sad." Merlin nodded, not quite following Guinevere's line of reasoning "It's not difficult to deduce that, whatever happened on that day is the reason of your sadness."

Merlin just stood there, gaping stupidly at Gwen, and slowly realizing that Morgana really had a great influence on her maidservant and how alike they were becoming.

"Sit." She told him pointing to the little stone bench with her chin, and he did so.

Inhaling as much as air as he could, he told her what had happened in Gaius' chambers. The corridors were, thankfully, very quiet and by the time he had finished relating the events, no-one had passed. Merlin was starting to think Gwen had chosen that place on purpose with her amazing womanly powers of deduction and almost fore sighting.

"Are you sure Arthur tried to kiss you?"

"Yes."

She led her hand to her face, cupping it with a concerned expression.

"Do you think he fancies you?"

"No." he replied honestly, and she frowned.

"Then why would he do something like that?"

Merlin got up and threw his arms in the air, as if that would explain his situation.

"I don't know!"

"Do you want to find out?" she asked, and she didn't have the usual naïve and innocent tone to it.

"What are you thinking?"

"Morgana may have a plan…"

Merlin quickly hunched down where Gwen was sitting.

"No." he said, trembling a bit "Morgana must not know this; you should not know this. Please don't tell anyone." He added, resting his hands on her lap, the shadows growing stronger as the day ended, and creating darkness on the deserted corridor; shadows that he deeply hoped not to be any guards. She curled her hands on his, and smiled.

"Alright, I won't." she promised, and ushered him to get up "Now, let me go to Morgana, it is already this late and she needs her dress clean for dinner."

"Alright." He repeated, and grinned. He knew he could always count on Gwen, even she was this deeply changed by Morgana. She smiled at him again, and he realized she had not changed that much; only for the better. An idea crossed his head at the moment, maybe incredibly stupid and completely wrong, but highly probable. Maybe Morgana was the one Gwen loved. They did spend a big amount of time together, greater than the normal maidservant and mistress would, and they seemed perfectly happy by being at each other's side.

Noticing that he had not got much time to eat before going to meet Arthur, he left those thoughts aside and went back to Gaius' rooms.

They dined, with scarce talk and a very long time of staring and raising eyebrows until Gaius gave in to his inquisitive nature and asked what was wrong. Merlin, who had been torn between thinking about the relationship between the lady Morgana and Gwen and his own with Arthur, only shrugged, and said that he had had a heavy day of work.

Eventually, hours passed and Merlin was forced to go see the prince. By the time he reached the princes' chambers, in wasn't in a very good mood.

"Ah, Merlin." Arthur said, not looking at him.

Merlin nodded in silence and started dragging the sheets down, preparing the bed for Arthur. He plumped the pillows and folded the sheets as quickly as he could, while glancing alternately between the bed and Arthur. The prince was sitting on a chair, staring at the fire with a closed expression. Merlin knew that expression; Arthur wore it when he deep thought. Merlin wondered what the prince was contemplating. It couldn't be very serious, or he would have heard of it from the other servants; it couldn't be of any political sort, for the guards and knights were not agitated, despite the upcoming trip. He and his father seemed to be in good speaking terms…Then, what?

"The bed's ready, Arthur." He said, and the blonde broke from his state to peer at the warlock.

"Ah, yes. Hand me my night shirt." He said, and Merlin went to the cupboard and removed a white linen shirt. He then returned to the table and offered Arthur the vestment. Arthur took it, his brows furrowed, and Merlin didn't get why he was frowning. He got the right shirt, didn't he?

"Help me remove my clothes."

"What?" he asked.

"I said, help me remove my clothes. I am tired." Arthur repeated, now looking at the suddenly panting servant.

Merlin gulped and started doing as he was told, undoing the laces of Arthur's red shirt with painfully slowly. He thought that, maybe if he was careful, he wouldn't touch Arthur in any way more than necessary.

Arthur was clearly eyeing him; he could feel the intensity of his gaze on the back of his neck. Merlin paused on a trick knot- damn Arthur, always dressing with haste in the morning- and his finger accidentally grazed Arthur's chest. Merlin's breath hitched and Arthur shivered under his touch. The warlock did not dare to continue his task, and waited for the prince to speak instead.

"Y-You may go." Arthur said, voice low, and Merlin did not look at him and slid out of the room as swiftly as he could. He had goose bumps from that moment that had not subsidized, even when he managed to finally enter on his own room, passing by a sleeping Gaius- was it that late?- and falling on his bed, his heart thrumming in his chest, not helping him get any sleep.

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**Love,**

**Kironomi**


	5. The Forest

Oh, sorry for taking this long to update! As some kind of reward for making you wait so long( or actually it might a bit teasing), I am including at the bottom of this chapter a preview of chapter 6. like Totally-out-of-it does in her stories!(at least on one of Arthur/Merlin ones)- Check out her work!

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Chapter 5- "The trip begins"

Arthur strode around the camp, taking in the tired knights who rested against the trees. It was the first day of the trip and they were all already tired. He shook his head at the amazing knights of Camelot.

The sun was setting in the horizon, above the highest of the trees, the increasingly dim light involving the languorous knights in intensified drowsiness. The knights' paraphernalia were still tucked away in the horses' back- they had just dismounted them, after all- but one person was already busy removing his belongings and preparing a fire on the centre of the clear. Arthur ignored him, of course, and, imitating his men, he sat on the ground. He rested there for a quarter of an hour, listening to his knights' idle chatter about a maid named Mary, then got bored, stood up and walked towards Merlin, who was currently bending over what it seemed to be a large pot. How he managed to carry that in that tiny holdall of his, he'd never know.

He sat on a log the servant had surely dragged for the single purpose of sitting and noticed that the dark-haired man was very concentrated. With his brows furrowed and his lips pressed tightly, it looked as if was doing something of utmost importance, like when he polished the prince's armour.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't remember if I have already put the salt or not." Merlin replied, not even glancing at Arthur, his hands joint under his chin.

The prince laughed at his idiocy.

"What? Taste it, then!"

Merlin turned slightly, his expression too funny for Arthur not to laugh on his face.

"Do I need to?"

"Do you-of course you need to!" Arthur exclaimed. If Merlin was making them food, he needed to be sure that he had not poisoned it accidentally. Or that he had not put salt, which was equally a terrifying idea.

Gulping, Merlin stirred the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon, that Arthur was just too sure that it could not fit on that damn bag, and his mouth twitched in disgust. Arthur peeked at the pot just in time of seeing a large bubble of that concoction explode and covered his face with terror.

"Merlin… What exactly is that?" he asked, daring another peek at that something that one had to be very imaginative to call food.

"That's meat broth." The servant said, keeping a distance of one arm's length while moving the spoon as slowly as he could, surely fearing another explosion.

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"And how exactly did you make this wonder?"

"It's my mother receipt."

"Ah." Arthur said, leaning back "That explains it, then."

Merlin glared at him. Arthur just smirked, feeling a bit too smug about managing to insult Merlin's and his mother's culinary skills in a row.

"I chopped some pieces of meat, boiled them in water and added bread to make it thicker." Merlin explained, grinning, and Arthur sighed, resting his head on his hand.

"And why didn't you just roast the meat?"

"Because then we would eat more meat and we don't have enough to feed the knights for the days of the trip."

Arthur rolled his eyes "Merlin, we're not the best hunters in the kingdom because we spend the hunting trips rolling on the grass." He said, though not quite containing a snort at the thought.

"Oh, I didn't remember that. " Merlin said, his voice low, clearly embarrassed. Then, spooned a small quantity of the broth and swallowed it.

"Ah, I did put salt!" he exclaimed, and then looked at Arthur expectantly "Do you want to try it?"

"Sure, why not? It's not going to kill me after all!" he said, sarcastically, and took the spoon from his manservant's hands. He swallowed slowly, and was surprised to the fact that it actually quite good. No, definitely scrumptious. Of course, his pride combined with the vision of Merlin being hired as the new royal cook and serving a broth to Uther that would certainly have him killed made him refrain from showing that it was good at all, and replying, when Merlin asked him if it was good, with a "Let's call the knights."

Merlin frowned, but got up and beckoned the knights to approach.

"Dinner time!" he said, and the knights ran to the centre of the clear with renewed energy.

"What is it?" Sir Balau asked, in the back of the small group.

"Is it roasted meat?" another knight inquired, over Arthur's shoulder.

"Oh, don't tell me it is boiled!" one said, sounding really excited and hopeful "I haven't eaten boiled meat in months!"

Then they leaned over the big pot and disappointment ran across their faces.

"Oh, wow, isn't that…What _is_ that?" Sir Morcant, the nicest and youngest of all knights, asked.

"It's broth!" Arthur told them, his voice reaching a comical tone.

A common exclamation of utter disgust was heard.

"Are the knights of Camelot supposed to eat _that_?"

Arthur turned his head to see the knight who had spoken. It was Sir Gruffudd. Of course, that man was always against everything! Arthur got up and faced him, suddenly feeling irritated for no reason.

"When in war, you are forced to eat worse than this. "He said, quite harshly "You are warriors, not sicken maidens!" he heard Merlin snigger behind him and he shot him an apprehensive look "So, eat the dam broth. I've tasted it and it is fine!"

The knights were already used to him talking like that, but it still surprised them every time. Some looked like they had been slapped in the face, Arthur noticed, and one knight was already eating his share.

"Ah!" Sir Morcant exclaimed, astonished, looking at his bowl "It's actually tasty!"

The other knights seemed to take this as proof enough of what Arthur had said was true, and they picked each a bowl. Merlin, who seemed very pleased with this turn of events, just smiled and took care of feeding the hungry warriors.

Arthur directed his attention to the manservant as he brought the first bowl to him and then hurried back to the pot, serving the other just as eagerly. He seemed happy to have his creation appreciated by others. He could smile- and it was a truly brilliant smile- to those who had treated him with disdain before; he could forgive that easily. Even when the prince arrived to his chambers late, tired and thoroughly pissed, he somehow managed to take his anger and even diminish it. Just with his smile.

And those were the kind of thoughts that made Arthur fear. Why did he feel this way? What was this pang in his chest that made him unable to breathe at times, when looking at the servant?

He spooned the rest of the food and put the bowl on the ground. He then leaned against the log, looking at darkening sky, and sighed.

Since that day, Arthur would eat while think of Merlin, fall asleep and dream of him and wake up to hear his voice. It was slightly maddening the way he thought of him. Also, whenever he was alone or not, and that was disturbingly embarrassing, he would remember his hands sliding down Merlin's thighs, his imagination would trail off to give room to fantasies that he didn't know he could have. Fantasies that made him blush to the root in the spot.

Luckily, this had not caught anyone's attention, not even Morgana's, who usually was as cunning as a fox. But Arthur wasn't dumb. He knew what was happening.

His adolescence had ended long ago, when he finally satisfied his curiosity with a woman whose name he never knew. It had been quick, clumsy and utterly horrible. Of course, when he had told his pals then, he had not admitted that. The point was, he was going through that phase again. Maybe it was the pressure his father put on him, maybe because it had been too long since any activity of the sorts. He just knew that what was happening to him had been catalysed by the events of that day. He was in need of release and so it happened that he ended up lusting after the closest person to him, Merlin, nothing more.

And closer didn't exactly mean easier. Neither would the angelic servant agree to do something of that nature nor would the prince want to spoil their friendship; the thing they had that somehow made Arthur's world a bit brighter and not as depressing. No, Arthur would never risk something as precious as that.

He'd have to find a servant girl with no shame and a strong libido back in Camelot.

With that conclusion, he got up and went to a nearby tree, placed a mantle in the ground, and lie down. His knights were currently doing the same but Merlin was taking care of the dishes and other things Arthur didn't understand.

"Good night, sire." he heard a voice say, a bit too nearby for his comfort.

"Good night, Merlin." he replied, voice low so not to be heard, not daring to turn around.

When Merlin woke up on the second day of the trip, he couldn't quite remember why he was lying on that cold, moist choice of a bed. Then, he noticed the canopy above him and he realized he was travelling. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. A thin mist dwelled in the clear, especially among the trees, darkened by the lack of light. He stifled a yawn and stretched his legs and arms.

He then got up, still not quite seeing his surroundings and tripping on a root, but not falling, and saw that the other knights were still sleeping. He peeked at the tree Arthur had been sleeping next to that night, but the prince was gone. That was rare; the prince usually slept longer than the servant. Maybe he had just gone for a walk, he told himself. Then again, what kind of person walked around in a misty morning on a place he did not know?

Curiosity struck him and he walked past that tree into the forest, deciding to find the prince. Birds were already chirping happily in the woods, seeming fully unaware of the presence of the knights. He spotted a blackbird defying a lark in the highest of branches, making a racket rather than a melody. Despite that, Merlin found himself enjoying the cacophony and even humming in response. After all, why couldn't he be in tune with the nature? He had not woken up in a particular mood that morning. He was easily influenced by the flow of things around him, and the smell of fir trees taking the start of Winter made him smile and remember home, when it snowed. The soft crack of leaves under his feet released scents of Autumn and golden garlands floated above him made him recall the celebrations back on Camelot, when the wine flowed fluently and harvests had just started. Autumn meant happy times, despite the way the trees lost most of their leaves and how the vibrant colours made him nostalgic.

It was ending, though. Soon enough, autumnal smells and colours and all those things Merlin liked would vanish to give room to Winter and its sadness. The short days and long nights would come together with clattering teeth and freezing water, and persistent abstinence of the sweetest of all fruits. And cold.

Merlin immediately stopped reminiscing as the air around him abruptly changed.

The mist seemed deeper, involving him in a embrace, passing right through his finger when he tried to reach for it, though it seemed so solid. It was darker there, on that trail he had ended up in, almost scary.

A deep sound was heard on his right. He jumped and looked up, only to see an owl staring at him with big, menacing eyes.

He scowled and kept walking, the air on that area seemed denser and silence reigned, making the back of his neck tingle with shivers. He stopped for some seconds, looking around, trying to figure out from where he came and where he was heading to. He had no clue.

Merlin sat down to think. How had he ended up there? He had not noticed the change of mood or place. He leaned his head against the tree, trying to concentrate.

He…he was…he didn't know what he was doing! He was, slowly, panicking about the unfortunate situation.

His hand slipped on the bark and he grimaced. The warlock took the hand to his nose for a whiff. It didn't smell like regular sap. It was sweet and Merlin felt, for a second, tempted to taste it. What was it then, if not sap?

He cleaned the slimy substance to some leaves and, observing its whitish colour, he remembered the vial back at Camelot, on the forbidden library he had visited with Arthur. It was the same colour, and Merlin knew, as if by instinct, that it was the same fluid. Then why was there in Camelot a sample of that wretched thing? And, most importantly, where the hell was he again?

This place was part of the forest, he was sure, yet the animals from before were gone and it was unnaturally silent. No, not completely silent, he added to himself. There was a kind of whisper, an audible yet unknown respiration that floated in the air. And idea crossed and he abruptly leaned his hear against the tree.

_It_ was breathing.

He stumbled backwards with a gasp, his heart racing. _The tree had lungs!_ How could that be? Never had he heard of a tree that inhaled and exhaled air! He kept his distance, unsure if the plant would jump off the ground and eat him, which was a pretty ridiculous notion on itself. He eventually calmed down and ventured on another hearing of the same strange sound. It was rasping on earth with a shovel or the morning air; it was harsh and subtle at the same time, and a bit sad, he noted, without fully understanding the reason.

He remembered what Arthur said to him before they had left Camelot. He had said that they would have to travel through Albion's oldest forest in order to get to the White Mountains. What if the forest wasn't only old as well as _magical_? Maybe it had been created by the Old Religion. He sniffed, trying to get in as much air as he could. The scent was sweet, just like the sap. Maybe those two were connected. Maybe the trees were the ones producing this kind of smell; maybe it was the sap that influenced the air. One thing he knew for sure: that place reeked of magic. He didn't even know how he had not noticed it before. Now that he knew it, it filled every single one of his pores; it made him feel needles on each of his nerves, which kept him alert and aware. Another idea came up on his mind. Maybe the place wasn't magical per se and it had served as a rendezvous for magical purposes.

He imagined the many witches and warlocks before him coming there and doing rituals, keeping traditions, unaware of the eminent danger that was Uther Pendragon. Maybe they had even been his allies, as Gaius had once told him they had been- and Merlin still did not believe him. Maybe they had hidden themselves from their King there, afraid of being sentenced of doing something they were born to do. Merlin gulped as he imagined Arthur or Uther ever finding out about him. He would have met the same fate.

His heart felt heavy on his chest and he was gradually becoming sick and tired of that place. It somehow got to him. Like an invisible force, it was smothering him slowly and he was afraid of spending too much time there- how many hours had passed? Between entering and finding the goo and between smelling it and coming up with strange theories, that is. He started walking; certain that it was impossible that it was still that dark and that he was still in the same place, as if going round and around the same spot endlessly.

He kept walking despite such thoughts, and his persistence was soon reward with a light at the end of the path he was following. Yellow and small, yet a fringe of hope in that dark and strange abyss he had gone through. He started running and light magnified itself and trees started to grow more apart. Streams of light started falling from the sky, indicating the start of a new day, and Merlin was relieved to see himself in the middle of an again colourful forest.

It had not been that long. The first rays of light were still shying their way through the copses, enough to cheer him up.

He probably ought to return to the camp, where all knights were surely be waking up, hungry and most certainly angry, but he wanted to know where Arthur was. He was starting to get worried.

The birds cheeped around him, their sounds contrasting to those he had heard previously on the creepy part of the forest. There was also a constant rustle in the trees, the bushes, but Merlin did not hear it, he felt it, like his body extended to his surroundings. He did not put much thought into it and continued walking. The exit of that path led to the bank of a calm river. The icy blue sky painted the landscape in wintery colours and the river looked cold. The air around him also seemed like it was recovering from the night, steadily gaining some vigour from the sun.

He heard a splash and instantly looked at the ever flowing river, wondering what had caused the loud noise in such quiet banks. He only had time to register the blonde hair before hiding behind a tree.

"Fuck!" Arthur cursed, and fell.

Merlin had to stifle a laugh. So that was the reason of the noise. Arthur was bathing. Observing him from afar, Merlin guessed he was having difficulties at it; especially the standing up part. Arthur sat down, probably deciding that it was best to take advantage of the situation and just wash his hair.

Merlin watched with dreamy eyes as the prince rubbed his hair, water falling down to his shoulders and countless drops of water sliding their way through skin and hair. It was rather erotic, as Merlin would admit if he wasn't too mesmerized by the sight

After a few seconds of scrubbing, Arthur threw his head back. He then got up and, now without any slipping, walked towards a tree, in which a rag was secured together with his clothes. He picked it up and started drying himself. Merlin swallowed.

This was, probably, the perfect moment for Merlin to disappear; he could not risk another moment of hiding. But, seeing Arthur exposed like that…

Oh, he had seen _it_ before. When he prepared Arthur bath, there was always a moment afterwards, when Arthur would take off the towel and immerse himself in the tub. And Merlin couldn't help but glance at it. Arthur had never noticed it and it wasn't such a big a deal. Only that _it_ was and now Arthur was all naked for him to see. Had not the passing weeks been a constant frustration of quick looks and embarrassed moments? Then why did God have to punish him with such a show?

Arthur was obviously unaware of the warlock's presence for he kept dragging the rag along his skin without a single look to his surroundings. The weather was far too cold for drying naturally, Merlin thought, wondering how the prince had endured the surely freezing water of the river when he yelled at the servant whenever his bath's water was luke-warm. First, Arthur dried his golden hair, which seemed to shine with the incident sunlight, even if it was damp with the water. When the prince finished with it, he started drying his arms. Merlin couldn't help but compare; Arthur's arms were so muscled, as well as his chest, in opposite of Merlin's frail limbs. And his skin… Merlin did not know, or ever saw a nobleman or noblewoman with such a tone to them. Not many knights did. Well, except for Leon and obviously Lancelot. But the latter lived all his life working under the burning sun, so it didn't count. Arthur's semblance was, unlike anyone he knew. It was _golden_.

"And warm like the sun." he thought. He noticed that Arthur had his hand now on the one place he was trying hard not to look at again.

Merlin averted his eyes and turned around. He couldn't bear to be teased anymore. Ashamed, he buried his face in his hands. His palms dug in his eye sockets as a sense of dizziness overcame him. What was he doing, spying on Arthur? Things were getting out of control. He rested his head against the strong bark of the tree. That dizziness always assaulted him in moments not suitable at all. Like when Arthur striped off his clothes and even when he called Merlin's name.

"Merlin..."

Yeah, just like that. With that infuriated, warm-"Oh god" Merlin whispered and peered through his fingers long enough to take in the person before him.

"A-Arthur!" he exclaimed in a feebly faked surprise "I was just looking for you!" he dropped his hands, hoping that Arthur wouldn't notice how he was shaking.

"Were you really?" Arthur asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Merlin gave a nervous laugh and slid off his uncomfortable position in the small space between Arthur and the tree. Maybe Arthur had already seen through him. He didn't seem surprised to see him hiding behind a tree. Maybe he had already spotted him when Merlin had watched him dry himself. If so, why did he not speak then?

"Yeah!" he finally said, putting as much distance as possible between him and Arthur." It's time for breakfast!"

"Then why aren't you making it?" the blonde said, putting on his shirt. His pants were already on, much to Merlin's relief.

"W-Well, I had to look for you first! The King would have my head if you were kidnapped or if you drowned yourself!" he informed the prince, feeling a bit accomplished by mocking the prince.

The prince's eyes widened and he stood straighter. Merlin waited for the response.

"If I had to rely on you for my protection, I'd be dead before I was even attacked. And I do know how to swim!" the prince retorted, and if he'd never admit it, Merlin loved to banter.

"That's not what I saw today!"

He didn't know why he said it, he really didn't know. Maybe it was the entrance on that comfort zone that both were so familiar with, maybe he was just taken away with the rush of arguing with Arthur. The fact is, the moment he said it, he knew there was no turning back and that he really was an idiot like Arthur had said many times.

"So you _were_ watching me."

Merlin opened and closed his mouth during several seconds, trying to come up with something that would help him get through this, inefficiently.

"I was just watching your back in case someone tried to attack you."

Arthur's eyebrow's shot up. He didn't believe it.

"Are you sure you just watched my back?"

Merlin froze. Was Arthur...He couldn't have..._Damn._

"Why d-don't we head back to camp?" he suggested, stuttering. How could things have gone so badly? To hell with his stupid decision of leaving the camp in the first place. Stupid forest. Stupid Arthur for being so cunning. He repressed the will of banging his head against the nearest tree and started walking away from the river. Arthur followed shortly behind him with an impossibly wide grin playing on his lips.

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Thanks a lot for reading!

Chapter 7 preview:

That day he had realized something. Merlin doted on him and not as his manservant or friend. No, he fancied him. He wondered how long had that been going on. And had Merlin fantasized with him like he had?

Maybe Merlin was even a virgin!

He needed release.

He wondered just how much more they would have to ride to get to that bloody Inn. He was getting a sore , his prayers were heard and soon enough the irregular and painfully long path culminated in a small village.

Merlin spread his hands, palms trailing the curve on the prince's body, his thumbs always connected with Arthur's spine, pressing harder and harder.

"Fuck...Fuck me."

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wow, that wasxa crappy preview!lol, please comment because i love you all!


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